


Stress

by FatalGrace



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1353865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatalGrace/pseuds/FatalGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's been pushing Will hard, and Hannibal thinks he knows how to help. Shameless fluff with a bit of daddy!kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress

Hannibal checks his watch. 7:30. Will should be here any moment. Standing gracefully, he strides towards the door just as Will knocks.

"Hello, Will. Please, come in."

"Thanks."

Will slides awkwardly past the doctor and heads for his usual chair. Flopping into it with a sigh, he lets his eyes close as he waits for Hannibal to take his seat.

"You seem distracted tonight, Will. What is on your mind?"

As he cracks his eyes open, Will looks somewhere in the vicinity of Hannibal's left ear.

"Nothing in particular. There's just--There's a lot of extra stuff in my mind. Jack's been having me look at cases, and I keep...I keep looking, I keep seeing, and he keeps giving me more. It's like there's constant static in my head. Not as bad as it was with Hobbs but..."

his voice trails off and he lets his eyes drift down to the floor. Suddenly, Will wonders what it would be like to sit at Hannibal's feet and lay his head on the other man's knee. He shakes his head. Where did that thought come from? When he looks up, Hannibal is regarding him intently. Will's cheeks heat heat up under the scrutiny and he looks away.

"You're staring."

Hannibal tilts his head to the side and looks at Will with a serene expression.

"I simply wonder when you will allow yourself to take a break from working with Jack. It clearly is causing you stress, even if--as you say--it is not as bad as Garret Jacob Hobbs. You step into these killers minds, but when do you take time to leave their minds and simply be in your own?"

A painful smile flickers onto Will's face for a moment before disappearing.

"My mind is not exactly a savory place to be these days. It's full of the thoughts of all these killers. I'm not sure there is much of a "my mind" that isn't somehow related to murder or death or catching murderers."

An uncomfortable silence engulfs the room. After a moment, Hannibal breaks it.

"Come here."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Come here. Sit. At my feet."

Will swallows, his breath catching in his throat. How could Hannibal possibly have known...? He debates acting offended by Hannibal's request--well, order actually--but the moment passes and he realizes that there's at least part of him that wants to listen. Slowly, he stands, shuffles forward a few steps, and lowers himself to the floor, crossing his legs. Suddenly, there's a hand on each shoulder and he's being turned--drawn back first against the chair. There's a leg on either side of him, a chin on his head, and two arms crossed at the wrist over his chest. Once his heart stops pounding, Will realizes that he feels...quiet. His head isn't buzzing with killers' thoughts. His eyes drift shut.

Another silence descends on the room, but this one is far more comfortable. Once again, Hannibal breaks the silence.

"How do you feel, Will?"

"I feel quiet. I feel like I can breathe again."

One of the hands on Will's chest moves away. It starts petting his head gently, smoothing the wayward curls.

"Do you know why you are quiet now?"

Will shakes his head slightly.

"Because you listened to me. You allowed me to assume control for a moment, instead of allowing your murderers free reign. Be a good boy and listen to me, and I will make them stop, at least for a while."

Will nods and lets hiself list to one side. His cheek is against Hannibals leg, and the wool of Hannibal's suit is smooth. Will figures the suit must be expensive for the wool to be so fine. A thought nags at him...something about one of the cases he's working, but he doesn't want to think about it. Instead, he focuses on the hand petting his hair. The motion is soothing, and Will drifts off into a pleasant haze. A voice in his ear.

"Are you comfortable?" Will nods.

"Words, William." Hannibal's voice carries an edge of reproof. Still in a haze, Will responds automatically.

"Yes, Daddy."

He freezes, doesn't breathe. He hadn't meant to say that. It just slipped out. He pulls away, sure that he's runied the moment, but Hannibal's petting hand drops down across Will's chest, and he feels himself being drawn back against the chair. Lips press against the top of his head.

"Good boy."


End file.
